The sunset we never had

Chapter 1

Rez Wilson

Thud!!!

The canvas collides with the wall making a thud sound. I sighed, I have been losing my focus.

I walked to my drawer and pulled out a packet of cigarette. I took one of the joint, and pressed it between my lips. I light up the joint, inhaling it, closing my eyes.

Smoking is my escape from reality

Exhaling the smoke I opened my eyes, my eyes wandered around the room looking at the mess created. I could not bring myself to create a piece. I feel like I am lost.

After smoking for a good 15 minutes, I threw the joint on the floor, crushing it with my shoes and walked back inside

Immersing my brush in the vibrant hues of the color palette, I embarked once more on my artistic journey, striving to capture the essence of my earlier vision. With each stroke, the brush glided effortlessly across the pristine canvas, my hand steady and focused, infusing the painting with a sense of perfection and purpose. The fusion of colors and shapes began to harmonize, each detail meticulously crafted to bring my creation to life. The canvas transformed into a tapestry of emotions and beauty, a reflection of my dedication to the art form. The pursuit of perfection unfolded before me with each delicate touch, shaping the painting into a masterpiece in the making.

looking at the painting, my eyes scanning for any possible flaw or mistake.

With a grin I concluded, the painting is finally finished.

Aligning my art supplies to their respective places after cleaning the brush and pallet. I stepped out.

Sliding my hands into my pockets, and retrieved my phone with a smooth motion, With a deft touch, I unlocked the screen, only to find out my screen was flooded with the missed calls of my dad.

As I made the decision to reach out to him once more, I tapped his number into my phone, the anticipation building as I waited for him to pick up the call. The ring echoed in my ears, each tone a heartbeat of hope that he would answer.

"Where are you?" His voice was hoarse,
He's definitely mad

"I am at the work, don't worry I'll be reaching there in-"

"I warned you to stop this painting shit, didn't I?" He growled on the call.

I felt my heart break with his each word as continue.

"Painting won't take you anywhere Rez, you need to do some real work. Get a job"

I could feel my lips pressing into a thin line as his words pierced through the phone, his voice escalating as he continued to lecture me about the importance of securing a successful career. The intensity of his tone reverberated in my ears, each word a sharp reminder of the pressure to excel in life. Despite the frustration building within me, I maintained a composed facade, listening attentively as the call unfolded, the conversation a delicate dance of emotions and expectations.

"I understand dad" I finally managed to speak

"Rez, this is my last warning to you. If you don't get a real job I'll burn down all your paintings" His tone was sharp slicing through my heart

"Dad but you know I love painting right?" Defending myself I finally uttered those words

"And you know I don't care, come home we need to talk" he said and cut off the call.

I sighed as looked at my painting, I cannot let go of painting. I was always fond of painting, ever since my childhood. My mom used to bring me art supplies as she knew How much I loved painting. But everything is different now...

My Mom and dad fights everyday even over a small things and I know they will fight again once I reach back home.

I pursed my lips and made a swift exit from the room, striding purposefully towards the table to grab my keys. With a determined air, I headed to my bike, the familiar weight of the helmet in my hands. As I secured the helmet in place, I revved up the engine, the sound of the roaring bike filling the air as I embarked on my way to home. The wind rushing past me, the thrill of the open road ahead.

Reaching home, I decided to park my bike outside. I took off my helmet and made my way toward the door. Swiftly pressing the doorbell I eagerly waited for the door to be opened.

Few seconds later, I heard footsteps approaching the door. The doorknob twisted, revealing my mom. She looked at me before smiling, Which obviously looked forceful and fake. I nodded and stepped inside.

She closed the door behind, "hungry right!? Fresh up and come downstairs. The food is already heating up in the microwave" She softly said looking at me with a cheerful smile

I nodded in response "Where's dad?" I asked as I noticed his absence in the living room.

Her face bleamed with pain and hurt as she spoke "he had some work, he'll be back in an hour"

I knew she was lying, we both know what kind of works he's busy into.

"How long are you going to lie to yourself mom?" I questioned her, looking at her state. She had been through a lot

"Rez go and freshen up" she sternly said ignoring my question and walked back in the kitchen.

I sighed and walked upstairs to my room. "Our conversation isn't over mom, you cannot avoid this forever, can you?" I called out and slammed my room's door shut behind me.